


Dreams

by MaestrotheBlue



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, i literally couldn't have put any less effort into this, i was forced (by myself) to post this, literally just a bunch of sappy kinnie memory stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaestrotheBlue/pseuds/MaestrotheBlue
Summary: When the sun set just right and the wind blew through his hair, it almost felt like someone was holding Kamal. And sometimes, with a breeze running its fingers through his hair and the sun to his back, he liked to close his eyes and dream.





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a dirty kinnie and I know it. Take this sappy mush and don't expect quality.

When the sun set just right and the wind blew through his hair, it almost felt like someone was holding Kamal. And sometimes, with a breeze running its fingers through his hair and the sun to his back, he liked to close his eyes and dream.

Sometimes, when he opened his eyes, he’d be back in the Carnival, way back before the Habitat was opened. Sometimes, he’d be helping Habit, taking the chance to gaze at him with all the love he had repressed while Habit’s back was turned. They’d be putting together another Carla, or sometimes Habit would be working on Martha. Sometimes, it’d just be Kamal, on his back staring at the sky, with a hand keeping the sun out of his eyes as he watched the clouds go by and dreamed.

Sometimes, when he opened his eyes, he’d be back in the interview for the position. Even with just a first impression under his belt, Habit already seemed… well, not perfect, but a great person. That goofy smile that almost reminded him of that :3 face that seems so popular online, and that hair, and the way that when he saw the outfit Kamal was wearing (unfortunately, due to lack of time and lack of clean clothes, Kamal was wearing a pink polo with hearts on it and red striped pants- he was not expecting to actually get the job) he called it ‘cy-oot’ with that strange way of speaking and thick accent of his (Kamal could never get over the fact that the outfit was called cute. Never wore it again). Maybe it was the fact that, despite the fact that it was his first interview, and an absolute disaster… Kamal still walked out of there with a job, a new crush, and for the first time, a bright future. With a nervous skip in his step, he walked back home, excited, and wondering what this job would hold in store. And so, he dreamed.

Sometimes he’d be in Habit’s office, talking to him about whatever it was that they talked about back then, back before the Habitat opened, back when he was still Habit’s assistant. Back when he was still Habit’s… And Habit finally dropped the shallow pretense of formality he put on for polite platitudes, and instead of calling him ‘Dr. Bora’ or whatever he called Kamal back then, he called him ‘Kamal’ for the first time, and while Kamal didn’t know why at the time, his heart skipped a beat. And even just being in the same room as him, it was like he was a child again, building a blanket and pillow fort and assigning all of his stuffed animals to his royal guard to protect his sanctuary, and he just felt like no evil could ever touch him, no ne’er-do-well could set foot on this land. It felt like… safe. And it felt like love. And it felt like dreams.

Sometimes, he’d be alone in the office, sitting completely still in the office chair like a duck hiding from the hound, with Habit’s gigantic coat resting on his shoulders and draping around his curled up form like a curtain, because it’s twice its size and Kamal isn’t wearing it properly but he’s happy, nuzzling his face into the faux fur that circled the collar and feeling like he was wrapped in a bulletproof vest made of love, and he dreamed of Habit holding like this. Oh, did he dream.

And sometimes he’d be in Habit’s arms, being consoled after finally breaking down and having the worst anxiety attack of his life- all in front of Habit. He was mortified, but… Habit smelled slightly metallic, like blood, and like bubblegum mouthwash and like lavender, and he’ll never understand how, but somehow that exact combination was what he needed to calm down, and how Habit purred comfortingly to him in Russian, and how he couldn’t understand a word of what Habit was saying to him but he loved him so much, so completely, all the same, that for all he cared Habit could’ve been speaking nonsense and he would still have half-cried himself to sleep in his arms like he did. He slept the best with Habit in the room. It was almost… dreamy.

And sometimes still, Habit would be in his arms. He can’t remember why he was so upset, but he remembers all too well how much it hurt to see Habit like this- Habit smiled so much, so well, how _could_ anyone even **think** of taking that away from him? And it started happening more and more frequently, and Kamal got more and more concerned, and Habit started pushing him more and more away. It was like a _nightmare_.

And on the worst nights, he’d open his eyes to the Habit Puppet, tears streaming down his face while he held the amalgamation of felt like it was the friend that he was so concerned about losing. The felt was so rough against his hands, but it felt… safe. It felt like love. It felt nothing like what the Habitat was becoming. A real life nightmare.

Or he’d open his eyes to Flower Kid, about to head off to bed to prepare for the Big Event tomorrow, telling them good luck and not to breathe in too deeply and knowing that his advice will probably just end with them passing out sooner but he can hope that something in this god forsaken mess will go right for him. And things start to look up. Because Flower Kid made every single Habitician happy. And surely, they can make Habit happy too? Well, he can dream.

And sometimes, on the best nights, he’d open his eyes to still being on the terrace, and he’d get up, and he’d go downstairs, and he’d find Habit in the courtyard, and he’d be able to give his now boyfriend an actual, real hug, because the nightmares got better, and Habit got better, and the Habit that Kamal knew came back and started a small garden in the courtyard, and while it wasn’t much right now, it’d grow into something wonderful. Habit’s in therapy for issues that Kamal’s glad that he can’t fix on his own. Because sometimes you need someone else’s help. And Habit smelled like bubblegum mouthwash and lavender perfume again- but now he wasn’t afraid to hide the lavender, and the smile on his face is back to being goofy, and holding Habit’s hands like this felt like love again, and Kamal’s happy.

Because sometimes, life just feels like a dream.


End file.
